


Don't Get Carried Away

by BlaiddGwyn (dragonLeighs)



Series: Jaskier Whump Week [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Gen, Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Injured Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier Whump Week (The Witcher), Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, description of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonLeighs/pseuds/BlaiddGwyn
Summary: Jaskier follows Geralt on a wyvern hunt. Things go sideways quickly. Geralt is taken out of the fight and Jaskier steps in to protect him. Except things never go to plan.Written for Day 2 of Jaskier whump week. Prompt: Forced apart
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Jaskier Whump Week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847923
Comments: 2
Kudos: 130
Collections: Jaskier Whump Week





	Don't Get Carried Away

**Author's Note:**

> Day two and I'm feeling better about how this one turned out. It's a bit abstract based on the prompt but I like it so I hope you do too.
> 
> Yes the title is a really bad pun and no I'm not going to apologise.

Jaskier was standing at the edge of the clearing. Further up the hill, Geralt was narrowly avoiding the attacks of the wyvern he had been contracted to get rid of. It was a vicious thing, snapping at the witcher with its teeth while trying to strike him down with its poisonous tail. Geralt made dodging its attacks look almost effortless but it meant there was little opportunity to attack.

Suddenly Geralt was knocked to the ground and they wyvern struck him with its barbed tail. He let out a roar of pain as the beast prepared to make the killing blow. Before he knew it, Jaskier was moving, silver dagger in hand. He ran at the wyvern and buried his dagger in its side, yanking it free again as black ichor came gushing out of the wound.

He narrowly dodged the tail as it swung round to meet him, but it leapt at him, sinking its talons into his shoulder, causing him to drop the dagger with a pained cry. It beat its wings and lifted them both in the air. The pain in his shoulder was almost unbearable as the talons pulled at his torn flesh. As much as it hurt, he prayed to the gods it wouldn’t let go as the trees below him flew by.

It seemed his prayers went unheard as after a few minutes the wyvern seemed to lose strength and its grip on him weakened. The wound he had caused on its side had kept flowing blood, coating its side in oily black. It began losing altitude and soon let the bard go.

He was in freefall for only a moment before hitting the top of the trees. The branches whipped at his skin and clothes but somewhat slowed his fall. He collided with the ground feet first, sending a shock of pain up his left leg. The impact caused his lungs to seize, leaving him winded and gasping for air

He lay there for gods knows how long, just trying to breath through the pain. He knew his leg must be broken and the searing pain of his shoulder hadn't let up any since being released. Eventually he managed to roll onto his back, keeping his leg and shoulder as still as possible. As he continued to breathe through the pain, he became aware of other injuries. His skin felt like it was burning, likely covered in scratches from all the branches he’d hit on the way down. His head ached and he wondered if he’d hit it when he landed. All in all, he was in a pretty sorry state.

He simply stared up at the canopy, gathering his courage and strength to sit up. He managed to lever himself upright with his left arm and finally saw his leg. His lower leg was swollen and bent at a slight angle. Thankfully, the bone hadn’t pierced through his skin, but it would still be impossible to walk. He looked at his shoulder too, peeling off his blood-soaked doublet ever so carefully.

There were several wounds where the claws had pierced his flesh. They were deep but since they were only sluggishly bleeding, he assumed the talons had miraculously avoided a major bood vessel. They would need to be cleaned and stitched but he wasn’t too worried about losing any mobility. He bunched up the doublet and pressed it to the wounds to try and staunch the bleeding. He bit back a cry of pain as his shoulder felt like it was on fire. He managed to tie the fabric around his shoulder rather haphazardly, not having the strength to rip it into strips to use as bandages. His hands had been scratched to shit and there were a few cuts still oozing blood but most had already scabbed over. He imagined his face and neck hadn’t fared much better. His chest ached and when he lifted up his chemise, he found the beginnings of a large bruise on the left side of his ribs where he had landed.

Satisfied he wasn’t in any more immediate danger of dying he finally took in his surroundings. He seemed to be in the middle of the forest, surrounded on trees in all directions. The sun was blocked too much by the canopy to tell which direction it was coming from. He was utterly lost.

“Cock.”

His thoughts turned to the witcher. Would he be alright after being poisoned? Did he have the Golden Oriole potion on him or had he left it with Roach. Would he be able to find him in the middle of the forest or was he going to die here? “No Jaskier, now is not the time for morbid thoughts,” he said to himself, forcing him out of that particular thought spiral.

He felt lightheaded from the pain and the possible concussion. He decided his next course of action would be to move himself to sit against a tree. He would feel better if he could just sit with his back against something rather than lying on the hard ground. The tree which had broken his fall was the nearest one, just to his right. It took a lot of effort to drag himself over to it as two of his limbs were effectively useless and he had to stop frequently due to the pain.

Eventually his back hit the rough bark and all the energy seemed to drain from his body. He was feeling noticeably worse by now, his head pounding and the pain throughout his body almost unbearable. He was likely dehydrated and just the simple act of breathing hurt. He tried to resist the urge to close his eyes, knowing he was far from safe, but eventually his body won, and his eyes slipped closed.

When he next woke, the sky had turned dark. There was a noticeable chill in the air, and he couldn’t help but regret taking off his doublet earlier. He shivered which immediately sent a wave of pain through his body. He gingerly tried to lift the makeshift bandage on his shoulder to see if the bleeding had stopped. He didn’t get very far as his blood had dried into the fabric, effectively gluing it to his wound. At least that meant it had probably stopped bleeding.

His stomach growled and he realised how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten since before he had accompanied Geralt on the hunt. His head was pounding, and he suspected it was from more than just hitting it at this point. There was very little he could do however, stuck as he was and with no supplies. He just had to hope Geralt was on his way.

He tried to fall asleep again but found he was in too much pain for his mind to slip into unconsciousness, as much as he might want it to. Instead he sat, staring out into the moonlit forest and listening to his surroundings. He could hear animals moving around, foraging and hunting. Luckily nothing big enough to hurt him seemed to be around. There was a light breeze rustling through the leaves above him and in the distance, he could hear something calling out into the night, likely searching for a mate.

Jaskier hadn’t realised he had closed his eyes until he opened them again to the rising sun. The forest was light again, despite the trees blocking any direct sunlight. The bard felt worse than ever, the pain, hunger and thirst all culminating into one sickening combination of hurt and nausea. He was weak and doubted he could move, even if he wanted to.

He wondered why he had woken up, considering the exhaustion he still felt. He listened for any hint of danger. Had the wyvern returned to finish him off? Instead he heard the distant calling of his name.

At first he wasn’t sure if he was hearing things but then it came again, slightly closer. He tried to call back, but his voice got stuck in his dry throat and he coughed, agitating his abused ribs. The coughing seemed to be enough of a signal however as the voice was getting closer still. He recognised it as Geralt as he continued to call.

Eventually, the white wolf himself broke through the trees and came into view, Roach in tow. “Jaskier,” he said, rushing to the bard’s side, relief clear in his voice.

“Knew you’d find me,” he croaked.

Geralt carefully checked Jaskier’s injuries, assessing his broken leg, bloody shoulder and scratched skin. He went back to Roach to retrieve some things before placing them by Jaskier. He uncapped a waterskin and held it to the bard’s lips for him to drink. Jaskier gratefully sipped the water, taking it from him with his good arm. Geralt uncapped a second one and began soaking the makeshift bandage on his shoulder to peel it away.

Fresh blood welled up as the fabric was pulled away. Geralt flushed the wounds with the remaining water before tying an actual bandage around his shoulder. “I’ll take you to the nearest healer. They’ll have to see to these wounds. I can’t fix you here.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier said. “Do you have any food?”

Geralt went back to Roach and packed away the supplies he had used, returning with a roll of bread. Jaskier ate it gratefully, not even caring that it was past its best. Once he was finished, Geralt gently got one arm under his knees and the other behind his back before lifting him up. Jaskier couldn’t help the cry of pain that escaped his mouth at the change in position. The witcher lifted him up into Roach’s saddle and with a bit of help, Jaskier managed to swing his good leg over to Roach’s other side. He left his injured leg free of the stirrup, afraid the movement would cause more damage and pain.

Geralt took up the reins and began leading them back out of the forest. “What happened to the wyvern?” Jaskier asked after a while.

“I tracked it down and killed it. I assumed it had taken you back to its nest but when I didn’t find any evidence of you and it almost dead on the ground, I assumed it dropped you on the way. I’ve been searching for you all night.”

Jaskier for once didn’t know what to say to that so took a leaf out of Geralt’s book and simply gave him a ‘hmm’.

“You dealt a mortal blow to it. It would have died eventually, even if I hadn’t finished it off.”

“Sounds like I could be taking your job soon then.”

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, amusement clear in his voice.

Jaskier soon found himself lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of Roach and knowing he was safe now Geralt was here. He tried to fight it at first but when Geralt told him to rest he let sleep take him.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!](https://blaidd-gwyn.tumblr.com/)


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